“Is it loaded?” Jack asked anxiously.
“Sure is.”
“That’s good. Keep a sharp lookout. Don’t shoot unless it is absolutely necessary.”
“Trust me!”
He did trust her, more than she knew.
After pulling down his canopy he switched on a pale light. “Just like my old scout plane,” he murmured.
As he studied the instruments and controls his amazement grew. At last he exclaimed in a hoarse whisper, “This is an American plane, every bit of it. The instruments even have the makers’ trade marks on them. How do you account for that?”
“I don’t,” said the girl.
Cautiously Jack tried out the controls. He set the motor whispering, that was all. He released the brakes. They glided forward three or four yards. He clamped on the brakes again.
As he tested the instruments Mary whispered: